


and the rest is easy

by paishhao



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings Realization, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, M/M, Oblivious Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, in which jun's cat is the opposite of a cockblock, it's the cat is nice to the fuckbuddy prompt, well fuckbuddies technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29948451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paishhao/pseuds/paishhao
Summary: He’s also not used to Minghao’s fingers doing anything other than going around his throat, up Junhui’s ass or in Junhui’s mouth. Minghao was just supposed to be here to fuck his stress away and then go. Why is he bothering with his cat? And why does said cat have to like it so much?Yes, we're doing that prompt.
Relationships: Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	and the rest is easy

**Author's Note:**

> this is yet another fic in the collection of the ["based on the fuckbuddy is nice to my cat" prompt.](https://twitter.com/xmnghao_/status/1316254582104752128?s=19) I know other versions exist but we out here and I really wanted to try it despite being late af and not really writing smut before. why did I add plot? we'll never know.
> 
> I was hoping to have had this done on Silent Boarding Gate day but it didn't work out ;^; and also Japanese cat day (2/22) I was originally going to wait until everything was done and post all at once but it was getting too much for my head so I decided to post at least the first chapter to give it less of a hold over me.
> 
> thank you everyone for waiting and putting up with my twitter ramblings lmao  
> and thank you always to **emily** and **dea** for cheerleading and letting me ramble about storytelling convention nonsense at you ;-; ♡
> 
> also: since I borrowed her, for those unfamiliar, TWICE's Tzuyu's name in Korean is written phonetically as "Jjeuwi" which comes up when they refer to her.

Junhui lets out a groan into the mattress as Minghao pulls out of him. He hears the sound of what he’s hoping is the condom being tied so it can get thrown out in the bin. The bed starts shifting around as Minghao hops off. Then a towel is being pressed between Junhui’s cheeks to clean him up before it gets tossed into the laundry bin in the corner.

“Well, I’m gonna get going now,” Minghao says casually, as usual. He pats Junhui twice on the shoulder blade, leaning his face close to see him. “Do you mind if I grab some water before I go?”

“Nah, help yourself,” Junhui grunts out in return, not bothering to move as Minghao starts gathering his clothes, redressing himself and heading out of the room. Junhui needs a few moments to recollect himself anyways and Minghao knows where the kitchen is. Once Junhui’s comfortable, he gets up and heads to the washroom to shower the sweat and remnants of sex away.

When he comes out, he puts on a fresh white t-shirt and some baggy joggers and wanders into the kitchen, feeling hungry. What he doesn’t expect is for Minghao to still be here, fingers stroking at his orange-striped Korean short hair cat as she sits on the table preening into it. The sight stops him in the doorway.

Junhui has no idea what to think. He and Minghao aren’t friends; the extent of their relationship was that they fuck and then the other leaves. It was a pretty simple arrangement, really. A wonderfully mutually-beneficial, stress-relieving, convenient arrangement that had worked for them for months. 

Minghao staying back to pet and coo at his cat is not part of that arrangement. 

And Junhui is pretty sure he’s been in that shower for at least fifteen minutes. “You’re still here,” he states unhelpfully.

Minghao looks up, almost-finished glass of water in one hand. “Yeah, I was gonna head out and your cat came up to me when I was getting the water.” He looks back down at her, expression softening. “I usually just see them chilling around when I leave but they’ve never come up to me before. What’s their name?”

Junhui slowly walks toward them. “Her name is Byuli.”

“As in ‘star’?” Minghao asks, drawing the shape in the air with his finger before stroking at her face again. 

“Yeah, it’s—” Junhui stops the automatic answer from coming out. About how her name is supposed to be a pun to go off his Korean name, that she was given a Korean name by Wonwoo because it was easier for him to pronounce, and how Junhui would never deprive Wonwoo of anything cat-related because he knows how much Wonwoo loves cats and Wonwoo’s his best friend. 

But he realizes who he’s talking to. He and Minghao are nowhere close enough for him to divulge that kind of information. 

“My friend named her,” is what he settles for. Junhui isn’t used to Minghao staying in his apartment post-sex for this long. They don’t _talk,_ really. It’s weird and unsettling and he doesn’t know what to do. He and Minghao may not be _friends_ but he’s not about to kick him out either. 

Junhui glares Byuli down, hoping she knows what distress she’s causing him right now. She’s too busy tilting her chin up for Minghao to scratch it. Junhui wishes she was still apathetic enough to just sit on her perch while Minghao was here like she used to. He doesn’t know why she’s making herself known now. 

“Ah, neat. Well” —Minghao downs the rest of his water, placing the glass down on the table— “I’ll get out of your hair now. I’ll text you if we need to meet again,” he calls, heading towards his shoes. “Or you text me, whatever.”

Junhui gives a cheeky pressed smile, accompanied with a weak two-fingered salute. He finds himself mildly surprised when Byuli calls a small sort of nagging meow at Minghao as he’s finally slipped his shoes on. 

“Aw, don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll be back,” Minghao says to her, tone oddly sweet. 

_Thump._

That shouldn’t be there, Junhui notes. Luckily, Minghao’s quickly out the door so Junhui doesn’t have to address it. He sighs a breath of relief, turning on his pet. He moves his hand to scratch her head, the same way he usually does, but she starts walking away, disinterested. 

“Traitor,” Junhui scoffs after her, picking up the glass Minghao left behind to take to the sink. 

+++

“Your boy toy was here?” Wonwoo asks, looking up from the cola chicken Junhui had so painstakingly provided.

“He’s not my—” _Well, he kind of is._ “Yeah, sure. He was here,” Junhui concedes, focused on scarfing down the food in front of him. “Why?”

Wonwoo starts looking around the apartment. “Byuli usually avoids me after he comes over.” He starts clicking his tongue, trying to lure her out. She stares from the top of the sofa, folded into a content loaf.

Junhui tosses his head back, drinking down half his tea. It’s not that hot anymore anyway. “That’s a thing that’s been happening?”

Wonwoo nods a distracted affirmative, focused on patting his thigh in order to try and get Byuli to jump on it. “Mm-hm, she hasn’t been as nice to me since he showed up.”

“Was she even nice to you in the first place?” Junhui asks lowly into his cup, watching Wonwoo’s head whip toward him with a dull glare. “What? I’m genuinely asking! I don’t know how she is with you.”

Wonwoo pouts, something that Junhui knows only happens when one of two things are involved. Cats are one of them. “She at least tolerated me. Now she barely goes near me.” 

“He was petting her earlier,” Junhui mumbles, putting his cup down and continuing to eat.

“Who?”

“The boy toy.”

Wonwoo frowns. “He was petting her?” He turns back to Byuli. “She let people pet her? Since when?”

Junhui shrugs, putting his cup down. “Since this afternoon, I guess.”

“He stayed long enough to pet her?” Wonwoo continues, voice tilting into genuine bewilderment. 

“Yes.” Junhui sighs. “It weirded me out too, believe me.”

Wonwoo clicks his tongue, going over to where Byuli is still lounging on the top of the sofa. “Byul-ah, what’s wrong?” He moves his face close to her to just stare. “I thought we were friends.”

Junhui shakes his head. Wonwoo was always like this when it came to cats. Junhui’s come to accept it so he just watches Wonwoo pick up one of Byuli’s string toys and dangles it in front of her. She turns her head away but doesn’t get up to leave.

“Are you ever going to tell me his name?” Wonwoo asks, still looking at Byuli. Junhui wonders how often he’ll have conversations with people who are talking to him but looking directly at his cat. “The boy toy,” he quickly adds on when Junhui doesn’t immediately respond.

Junhui blinks. “Why?” Minghao’s name doesn’t really matter, except when he’s driving Junhui crazy and telling Junhui to call out his name when he comes. Junhui has been very careful to keep his normal life away from his sex life. He’s not about to mix the two worlds. “It doesn’t really matter unless we’re in there so,” he replies, pointing in the direction of his bedroom down the hall. 

Wonwoo’s eyes follow the direction Junhui’s pointing in and grimaces, turning his head back. “I did not need to know that.”

Junhui rolls his eyes. “Not everyone is a sickly sweet couple like you.”

Wonwoo chuckles, staring into Byuli’s eyes again. “Leave Soonyoung out of this.”

+++

Junhui and Minghao weren’t friends. Not exactly. Junhui even wonders if calling them acquaintances is accurate. 

They were just two people who only interacted on the mutual agreement to have sex. Fuck buddies, if you will. Junhui thought it was pretty straightforward. Wonwoo, however, did not, but Junhui suspects it's because Wonwoo is too much of a romantic to accept the idea. He also suspects it has to do with him being practically married to Soonyoung right out of high school.

Their agreement started a little over two months ago, while Junhui was on shift at the small Korean-Chinese restaurant he worked at. 

It was quite simple, really: Minghao came by to pay one time and slipped a note with a number sequence on it as he was handing over his credit card. It wasn’t like Junhui was completely unfamiliar with who he was; Minghao had come by the restaurant a few times, sometimes alone, sometimes with at least one other person with him. The people he was with tended to change but Junhui’s good enough with recognizing faces to remember him. 

When Junhui looked up to question the paper, Minghao smirked and said, “That’s my number. Call me, whenever your shift’s done. If you’re interested.” 

“Me?” Junhui asked, glancing around at Tzuyu wiping down Minghao’s table. When people —especially guys— left their numbers, it was usually for Tzuyu. And usually what would happen is that, once they’ve left, Junhui would let Tzuyu know and she would make a face and tell him to just throw it out. 

( _“I’ll tell you when there’s someone’s number I’d actually want to keep, Hui-gē,”_ she’d dismissively said once in the breakroom, waving her hand around with a sigh. _“But for now, just don’t bother with them.”_ )

Which is why when Minghao had nodded and said, “Yeah, you,” with a warm-looking smile, Junhui didn’t know what to do. He almost wanted to say no, just keep the number and never call, politely turn him down and say he already has someone (which was _technically_ untrue), or even just toss the number out like Tzuyu usually does. Like she probably would’ve told Junhui to do if she found out.

But he supposed it would be a nice distraction from his current dilemma at work. 

And it was the first time he’d been given a number meant for _him,_ which is exactly what he told Minghao when he called him once his shift was over.

“I find that pretty hard to believe,” Minghao replied, leisurely strolling along the sidewalk beside him. 

Junhui shook his head. “No, really! People usually leave their numbers for my coworker instead.” 

“Is that why you called?” Minghao asked, finally turning to him but with an unreadable expression on his face. “Because I was the first one to ask you?”

Junhui bit his lip, thinking. “Sorta,” he admitted. It was part of the reason. He really wasn’t used to being wanted, he supposed. “But also I’d seen you come in the restaurant a lot. You were always nice and bringing new people with you, which is always good for business. And you always sit in my section so it’s not like we’re _complete_ strangers,” he replied with a big smile as he could muster.

Junhui doesn’t remember Minghao’s response after that because it was quickly followed up by a hand firmly grasping the back of Junhui’s neck while Minghao’s lips covered his in a kiss, forceful and a little messy. 

At some point, in the midst of the travelling hands and bruising kisses, Junhui had managed to pull away to whisper a small, “My place is nearby,” leading Minghao to his building. They continued making out in the thankfully-empty elevator, hands traveling all over, and made it to Junhui’s apartment, only for Junhui to be shoved against the door once he opened it and they slipped themselves inside. 

“Xu Minghao,” Minghao said in between the heated kisses he had been leaving along Junhui’s neck.

“Huh?” Junhui breathed out.

“My name, in case you need something to scream later.” 

He sort of already knew after getting his cards for his payments so many times but the words had barely registered in Junhui’s brain when he responded, “Jun,” reciting his name off his work name tag. After a few seconds of Minghao kissing the breath out of him, he reconsidered and managed to gasp out, “Wen Junhui,” instead, accent and all.

“Noted.” From there, Minghao smirked and dropped to his knees for the first time he’d taken Junhui apart that night. The second time had been when he generously fucked Junhui over the arm of the couch, and the third was when he pushed Junhui onto his bed and rode him. Junhui had been sure they’d been noisy then, if Byuli’s scurrying was anything to go by, but it was definitely worth it. 

Junhui didn’t think much of it afterward, not even after Minghao had shown up in the restaurant a few more times the next week. The company he was with still changed a few times but Junhui didn’t pay close attention to it. 

He thought it’d be awkward, constantly having to run into your one-night-stand where you work but other than the occasional glances, Junhui managed it. Minghao was just another customer, after all. It helped that Junhui had enough to focus on instead, especially when he peeked his head into the kitchen to drop off the tickets. It felt like he almost didn’t even notice Minghao was there. 

But then when Minghao was paying again, at the tail end of a particularly long Friday shift, he asked, “You interested in going again?” in low, hushed Mandarin. “You seem pretty stressed. I can help, if you want.” Junhui saw no reason to turn that down. 

At the end of that night, of Minghao pushing Junhui’s head down by the neck so he can fuck him from behind as rough as he wanted, after Minghao helped clean Junhui up, he’d smiled and said, “We should do this again sometime.”

“We should?” Junhui was sure this went against some sort of hook-up code. But then again, sleeping with him again probably did too. And he wasn’t exactly opposed. 

Minghao nodded with a half-hearted shrug. “Yeah, if you’re okay with that. I had fun.” After a few seconds, he quickly added, “It doesn’t have to be anything serious.”

When Junhui thought about it, it sounded good. Maybe it was the rush of endorphins or the post-orgasmic haze but he reasoned that it was still a good distraction, he didn’t have to really commit to anything and Minghao was a _really_ good fuck. “Sure, yeah. We should do this again. You have my number.”

It had taken a few meetings, but they’d started forming some unspoken rules. They only really kissed for foreplay and stopped during the actual fucking (Junhui reasoned that this was just to prevent feelings from intermingling). On that note, the actual sex was usually from behind because seeing each other during it would probably be… complicated. They usually went to Junhui’s place out of pure location convenience and Minghao wouldn’t stay over. They also obviously try to avoid meeting on days where they had to work the next day.

Starting from their third meeting, Junhui had allowed Minghao to wipe him down after Minghao had clicked his tongue and essentially nagged Junhui into letting him. At their fourth meeting, Minghao asked how old Junhui was. 

(He made a face and when Junhui asked about it, Minghao let out an embarrassed laugh and said, “I wouldn’t have guessed you were older than me.” 

“What? Why not?” He was almost offended. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, gē, of course not. You’re just really cute, I didn’t expect it,” Minghao said with a light pat on his cheek. 

“You didn’t expect me to be cute?”

Minghao just smirked in response.) 

From there, it seemed like Minghao was pretty set on using that title with Junhui for the most part, not that Junhui had any real objections about it. Minghao also tended to leave pretty quickly once they were done— neither of them had said anything about it; it just sort of happened and Junhui didn’t see the point in making him stay once their business was done. They take turns showering whenever (usually it’s Minghao because Junhui reasons he can just shower later) and sometimes Minghao lingers to get water.

When Junhui had presented these to Minghao and asked if he had any complaints, he was met with a few quiet blinks before Junhui added, “It’s just sex, right? It’s no big deal.”

Minghao quickly nodded. “Right. No big deal.”

For his part, Junhui had no reason to complain about it, really. It was pretty simple.

+++

Junhui gets back late from his shift at the restaurant, tired and stressed. When he comes in, it’s almost eleven in the evening. His boss was pretty apologetic about it but Junhui supposes he has it way worse than Junhui does. And it’s not like Junhui can ever really find it in him to be upset at his boss.

Byuli is sitting on one of the platforms of her tree, hopping down to greet him. 

Junhui sighs. “At least you still acknowledge me,” he grumbles to her. “I was worried you’d betrayed me.”

Byuli mewls and walks past him, brushing herself against his leg. Junhui picks her up and brings her to the kitchen. He portions out her food into her bowl and leaves her to eat, pulling out his phone. 

There’s a message from Minghao. _‘You down to meet today?’_ sent almost three hours ago. 

_‘Yeah, please. I just got back from work if you’re still down.’_ Junhui quickly types back. He looks and sees Byuli almost done with her food so he wanders to her cabinet for a treat. His phone signals Minghao’s reply.

_‘Can you say that again?’_

Junhui’s face scrunches. _‘?? I just got back from work?’_

_‘No no. Before that.’_

Oh. This bitch. _‘Please.’_ Junhui waits a few seconds before sending a follow up. _‘Please, Minghao.’_

Byuli stares at Junhui so he distractedly gives her her follow up snack, preoccupied with staring at his phone screen for Minghao’s response.

_‘I’ll be right there.’_

Gotcha. 

By the time Minghao is at his door, Byuli’s finished her food and Junhui’s had time to wash her bowl and take a shower. 

Junhui quickly lets Minghao in, expecting to be shoved against the door with a tongue in his mouth once Minghao’s shoes are off. Instead, to his vast disappointment, Minghao looks somewhere behind Junhui’s shoulder and lets out a soft sounding, “Aw, hey buddy! How’s it going?” 

_Excuse me._

Junhui watches Minghao walk over to where Byuli’s sitting — in an odd space between the living room and the kitchen— and squat down to scratch her face. She is _still_ tilting her head to lean into it, eyes contentedly closed as she starts rubbing her face all over his hand. _What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck._

Junhui tries not to think about how Byuli isn’t really that nice to him or Wonwoo, nor about how cute the sight sort of looks. Junhui takes in Minghao’s dark navy button-up shirt and high-waisted black smart pants, emphasizing his small waist and long legs. When Junuhi thinks about it, he doesn’t actually know what Minghao does for a living, let alone why he’d be dressed like that. They don’t really talk about that stuff.

He’s also not used to Minghao’s fingers doing anything other than going around his throat, up Junhui’s ass or in Junhui’s mouth. Minghao was just supposed to be here to fuck his stress away and then go. Why is he bothering with his cat? And why does said cat have to like it so much?

Junhui walks over beside Minghao to watch him coo over his traitorous cat who still seems to enjoy Minghao’s attention. He seems to notice Junhui’s looming presence because he turns his head to him, smirks and stands up. His hand, the one not touching Byuli, goes around to hold the back of Junhui’s neck as he shoves his mouth onto Junhui’s. 

The kiss is slightly harsh, a rough slobbery mess of teeth and tongues but Junhui doesn’t care, he needs this. He was waiting for this.

The thought only occurs to him for a second, how quickly Minghao went from sweetly petting his cat to roughly shoving his tongue against Junhui’s mouth, but Junhui’s pretty sure he’s okay with it.

His eyes slip closed, a small moan pulling from his throat and Junhui decides he’s very much okay with it. The sound gets swallowed by Minghao anyway and Junhui feels Minghao’s other hand holding his waist until he’s being pushed towards a wall or a doorframe or something. 

Minghao presses him into whatever it is and leaves hot kisses down the column of Junhui’s neck, causing him to pant out a variation of Minghao’s name, before Minghao’s mouth is back on his. The hand on Junhui’s waist starts sliding down to his ass, brushing over his clothed entrance. The other hand is running down his side and Junhui lets out an involuntary moan. 

“I’m gonna wash my hands. Wait for me in the bedroom?” Minghao offers against Junhui’s lips. Junhui blindly nods yes and the warmth of Minghao’s body disappears but not without a smack to his ass first. He barely gets to think about how Minghao’s essentially ordering Junhui around in his own apartment. But then again, Minghao’s been here enough times that he knows his way around and Junhui kind of likes it, if he’s being honest. 

He opens his eyes, wandering into his bedroom. He considers undressing himself but figures Minghao would want to do that on his own terms so whatever. He just has a black t-shirt on and sweatpants from his shower anyway. After he grabs the lube and a handful of condoms from the nightstand drawer and tosses them on the bed, Junhui sits himself on the edge, waiting for Minghao to come out of the washroom. 

When Minghao does emerge, however, he’s rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbow and brushes his hair back with a damp hand while the other tosses a hand towel on the bed next to the other items. Junhui is pretty sure this is _actually_ fucking him up. Minghao looks way too good like that and Junhui needs his dick inside him _now._

“You seemed pretty stressed in your texts,” Minghao says, moving in front of Junhui, pulling his attention back. “Rough shift?” He almost hums, snaking his arms around Junhui’s neck and caging Junhui’s hips between his knees on the bed, sitting himself in his lap. If Junhui were to think too hard about it, he’d think Minghao almost sounded sweet. And concerned. 

He and Minghao generally don’t talk about anything other than their sexual preferences. He can’t tell if Minghao’s trying to make work-related conversation all of a sudden. “Yeah,” he breathes out. He doesn’t know if Minghao is expecting him to go into detail about it or not so he doesn’t. “Rough shift.”

Minghao just hums as an answer with a small, “Okay,” like he’s considering something. Therefore, Junhui takes it upon himself to lean up for another kiss. It’s not as messy this time at least. “You don’t mind if we go a little rough today, then?” Minghao asks in a mumble against Junhui’s lips.

“Yeah, please,” Junhui pants out again. 

He feels Minghao smirk against him as his fingers move to the bottom of Junhui’s shirt to pull it off. Minghao lets out a small hum, tossing the garment aside and pushing on Junhui’s chest to get him to lay down on the mattress. 

Minghao’s lips are on him again, trailing from his jaw down his neck. He pauses to lick at Junhui’s collar bone, lighting his skin on fire as he continues kissing down his chest and to his abdomen. He pauses again, running a hand along the side of his waist. 

“You’re really pretty.”

Somewhere within their first month of meetings, Junhui learned that Minghao has a thing for his waist. He’s not sure how or why but he’s not complaining. Normally, it’s nice but right now Junhui’s panting through the way his thoughts are just clouded with pleas of begging Minghao to _just fuck him already._ “Minghao.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Minghao chuckles, pulling down Junhui’s sweatpants with ease, with Junhui even trying to kick the damn things off already. But Minghao, the absolute ass, licks a stripe on the skin where his thigh meets his groin. 

Junhui lets out a small whine, hips lifting a bit off the bed. One of Minghao’s hands shoots out to hold them down, shushing him. Minghao places a small kiss to the head of Junhui’s cock before moving down to the base and licking a long stripe until he reaches the head again. 

Another moan slips out of Junhui and a hand slides into Minghao’s hair, fingernails grazing his scalp. Minghao doesn’t seem to mind, continuing to place open-mouthed kisses along the head of Junhui’s cock, tonguing at the slit. 

As Junhui’s moans start mixing with slightly desperate whines, Minghao lets go of Junhui’s hip to reach over for the lube, squirting some on his fingers. He moves Junhui’s ankle to get him to spread his legs wider to make room. 

Junhui feels Minghao’s finger running over his rim a few times, teasing. “Minghao,” Junhui whines again, hips unable to stop lifting again as his hole clenches, trying to draw him in. 

“Use your words, gē.”

Minghao is an absolute ass. “Please, Minghao. Stop teasing me,” Junhui pants out, desperation pooling at his core. 

This seems good enough as Minghao uses one hand to hold the base of Junhui’s cock towards him, staring right at Junhui when he takes him into his mouth. “Fuck.” His mouth is warm and wet and Minghao’s lips look so pretty wrapped around him like this. Minghao probably knows it too, slowly inching along Junhui’s length, putting on a show. He comes back up slowly, sucking at the tip. 

Junhui whines again, hand going back in Minghao’s hair as he keeps tonguing at the slit. Junhui’s about to complain about Minghao being a tease again until he feels Minghao’s finger at his hole again, circling the rim and running the pads of his fingers over his entrance. “Oh my god, Minghao _please_.” 

Minghao hums, bobbing his head along Junhui’s dick, flicking at the tip with his tongue whenever he gets to it. Meanwhile, Minghao’s finger slowly eases his way inside, drawing a shuddering breath out of Junhui and the digit sinks down to the knuckle. 

Junhui lets out a breathy rendition of Minghao’s name as his finger slowly eases out and pushes back in, letting Junhui adjust to the stretch. While his head has slowed down on Junhui’s length, Minghao adds a second finger and crooks it around. “Ah — ah, _fuck._ Minghao.” The pool and coiling of heat as Minghao’s finger brushes at Junhui’s bundle of nerves and his back arches off the bed, thrusting into Minghao’s mouth. 

With a slight pop, Minghao pulls off Junhui’s dick, stilling his fingers. “Gē, be good, okay?” He presses a chaste kiss to the head, waiting for an answer. 

Junhui lifts his head and nods with an almost pitiful whine. It’s all he can do. Minghao tongues at his slit again, lapping up the precum and takes him back in his mouth, seemingly accepting this answer. Minghao’s mouth is warm around him and the stretch in his ass is amazing. He tries so hard not to move his hips to get more, tries to not fuck into Minghao’s mouth and tries not fuck himself open on Minghao’s fingers. He tries so hard to _be good._

Minghao doesn't seem to take pity on him. A hand holds Junhui’s hips down as Minghao works a third finger in, nice and slow. The drag of Minghao’s fingers alone would have been enough to make Junhui start keening but then he feels his dick hit the back of Minghao’s throat, and Junhui almost screams. 

He kicks his legs about, trying to control himself. It’s so much stimulation at once, frenzied and addicting, and he needs more. He can feel himself on the cusp of release, he’s _so close_ and manages to whimper out Minghao’s name between his breaths and moans. 

Slowly, Minghao comes up Junhui’s length, giving the head a last, long, excruciating suck before he lets it fall out of his mouth. It’s a mistake to look then, Junhui decides, because Minghao is watching him with half-lidded eyes, string of saliva still connected to Minghao’s panting flushed lips and Junhui thinks it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He doesn’t get to think much more about it because Minghao wraps his hand around his length and starts pumping him. His other hand starts picking up pace to match, thrusting mercilessly into him. 

“Gē, you’re doing so good,” Minghao coos, voice slightly hoarse. 

Junhui feels himself spasming around Minghao’s fingers, his hips greedily snapping up into Minghao’s hand to meet his thrusts. “Mi-Minghao.”

“Hm?” 

His fingers are thrusting harder, faster and Junhui bites his lip to keep himself from moaning. “Fuck, I—” He tosses his head around, panting, and tries to control his thoughts while Minghao continues teasing his prostate. It’s not enough. “I need—”

The fingers fucking into him are suddenly gone and Junhui whines at the emptiness, hole desperately spasming around nothing, already missing the feeling of being filled. “So cute.” Minghao places a light kiss to the inside of Junhui’s thigh. 

The bed shifts and Junhui leans his head up to see Minghao moving off the bed. He wipes his hand on the towel before undoing his belt and letting his pants drop unceremoniously to the floor, stepping out of them. 

“Do you want me to…?” Junhui asks as he sits himself up, licking his lips and watching Minghao free his half-hard dick from his boxers. 

Minghao follows Junhui’s gaze and lets out a small laugh. “Maybe next time.” He kneels on the bed and moves closer, settling on his haunches. He starts unbuttoning his shirt and Junhui watches, drinking the sight in. 

When Minghao moves to shrug the shirt off, Junhui protests. “Wait, no. Leave it on.”

Minghao scoffs. “You want me to fuck you like this?” His shirt is now fully unbuttoned and open, leaving just a thin white undershirt and _holy shit,_ Junhui did not think he was into this. 

His head is bobbing up and down before he can think about it. “Yeah. Please.” He moves closer, lifting the undershirt and tucking it behind Minghao’s neck. He’s not sure what it is but something about the sight sends his blood rushing to his dick. He dives in to kiss along the column of Minghao’s neck, moving down his chest and playing with a nipple.

“You sure?” Minghao brushes his hand along the side of Junhui’s hip, cool and clammy. “You won’t see me anyways.”

“Don’t care, leave it on,” Junhui pants out again, lips and hands still traveling along Minghao’s chest and abdomen. They’ve had sex several times by now but Junhui will always find time to admire how fit Minghao is because _holy fuck._

Minghao smirks, cool and cocky. “Whatever you say.” He gestures for Junhui to turn around. 

Junhui obeys and gets on his knees and elbows, specifically sticking his ass up to Minghao, waiting with his head on the pillow. He hears the condom packet being ripped open, Minghao groaning and then the wet noises of him slicking himself up. Junhui is tempted to start touching himself but knows Minghao would immediately swat his hand away. 

After he nudges Junhui’s knees a bit wider, Minghao’s fingers are back on his hole again, covering it with lube and Junhui groans, impatient. Especially when he can feel the head of Minghao’s cock sitting right at his hole, teasing. 

“Minghao, I swear to god.” 

“Swear to me later,” Minghao replies casually, slowly pushing in.

“ _Fuck._ ” Junhui’s head drops and Minghao’s clammy lube-covered hand grips his waist. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, just.” Junhui wriggles his ass a bit and Minghao slowly pushes in further, until Junhui can feel Minghao all the way in him, the burn and stretch causing a bit of an ache but it was also _so good._ The last few hours of his restaurant shift start melting away and he feels himself adjust, muscles clenching around Minghao’s length. Minghao’s hand is pressing at his lower back and slowly slides up to his neck and Junhui moans out a soft, “Please fuck me now.” 

Minghao moves slowly at first, setting an even pace for a while. The drag is good, addicting even. Junhui feels himself tense up and start falling apart, panting. Minghao starts rolling his hips faster, pushing harder and Junhui groans, falling on his face. Minghao grips his hips harder and Junhui doesn’t care if they bruise later but he’s pretty sure they will. Minghao keeps a steady pace for a while, pounding into him and filling the room with Junhui’s obscene moans and skin slapping against each other. 

It’s good, it’s so easy for him to want to stay here. Even more so when Minghao eases Junhui to lay flat on his stomach, propping a pillow under his hips. At this angle, he can feel Minghao reaching deeper inside him and his hips jump up to chase him.

“Fuck,” Minghao moans, pressing a hand to the small of Junhui’s back to hold him down. The rhythm in his thrusts gets sloppy, but more relentless and 

“Oh fuck.” Junhui is loud, especially once Minghao picks up his pace, his thrust grazing Junhui’s prostate and Junhui can feel himself getting close, fire coiling around in his belly. 

“Don’t come yet,” Minghao groans from behind him, slowing down. “You’re supposed to swear to me first, remember?” 

“Fuck, Minghao.” His breathing is erratic, panting and moans coming out in a mess and Junhui would honestly do whatever Minghao asked right now as long as he lets him come. His hips keep moving, bouncing, fucking into the mattress to try and gain friction, chasing his orgasm. He’s so _close._ “Please, Minghao. I swear to you, or I— shit, whatever you want.” 

“Perfect.” As a hand presses against the base of Junhui’s neck, Minghao speeds up, drives in deeper like he’s trying to take Junhui apart. Junhui is pretty sure he can come from this alone and Minghao’s groans join his in the air. Minghao hits in deep and suddenly Junhui’s crying out, burying his face towards the mattress as he comes onto the pillow below. “Fuck.” Minghao thrusts into him a bit more as Junhui tenses around his cock, slowing his pace as he lets go of Junhui’s hands to grip his hips again. After a few more thrusts, he groans that he’s coming too, tensing up before he relaxes completely. 

He places a kiss on Junhui’s back, right on one of his shoulder blades, catching his breath and Junhui can feel Minghao’s dick softening in his ass. After a few moments, Minghao pulls out, pulling the condom off to tie and toss out. He slaps Junhui’s ass as he gets off the bed. “I’m gonna shower real quick, okay?”

Junhui rolls over, seeing Minghao still wearing his open navy dress shirt, rolled up the sleeves, but now sweaty and wrinkled beyond possible salvation. “Wait.” He scrambles to the nightstand for his phone, opening up the camera app. “Do you mind if I…?” 

“You weren’t kidding when you said this turned you on, huh?” Minghao replies, popping the collar like the smug asshole he is. “Good to know. But next time, take the picture while I’m still hard, would you?” 

Junhui smirks, snapping a few shots as Minghao actually poses. “Sure, next time I’ll snap some shots while your dick is up my ass.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Minghao heads to the bathroom before waiting for a response. 

Junhui hears the shower start up and he grabs a robe hanging from a hook on the door. He heads towards the kitchen for some water, also looking for any snacks he might have. 

Byuli is laying on the table, looking at him. Junhui wonders if she knows he just had sex, and if she does, does she even care. She blinks at him as he grabs a glass of water for himself. He drinks it down, watching but Byuli doesn’t really have any reaction. 

True to his word, Minghao is done with his shower within a few minutes, coming out with a towel to dry his hair. He’s even redressed himself and Junhui feels marginally bad for the crumpled dress shirt. As he comes out, however, Byuli hops off the table and wanders to him.

Rude, Junhui thinks to himself. 

Minghao crouches down to see her, after she finishes gently head-butting his shin. “Aww, hi, sweetie,” he coos. He scratches her chin again and she is once again leaning into it. “You doing okay?” 

And she actually mewls back at him, what the fuck? 

Why does Byuli insist on embarrassing Junhui like this? And how can Minghao go from making Junhui beg and swear to him or whatever that was, to cooing sweetly over his dumb cat? 

“What do you do?”

Minghao glances up at him, obviously confused, but keeps his hand hovering around where Byuli can continue rubbing her traitorous little face all over it. “What do you mean?”

Junhui clears his throat, nodding along Minghao’s stature. “I see you come in the restaurant a lot and you uh, I never knew what you do, like for work. Like why you’re dressed so… proper like that.”

Minghao giggles, _actually_ giggles. It was high and bubbly and… cute? “You think this is dressing proper?” he asks, gesturing up and down the smart pants and dress shirt combination that was fucking Junhui up earlier. 

“Yeah.” And it’s kind of hot. 

With a small smile, Minghao rubs along Byuli’s back, trying to appease her while she’s clearly upset at not being the center of his attention. “I’m a fashion designer.”

Junhui’s head starts nodding. “Oh. Neat.” It felt a bit weird, like something strange —maybe resembling self-consciousness— tingling over Junhui’s skin. Why would Minghao, as some fancy fashion designer, bother spending time with Junhui, a server from a small fusion restaurant down the road? Wouldn’t Minghao have models or other hotshot people he works with that he would rather spend his time with instead?

When he looks again, Byuli is still nuzzling herself along Minghao’s hand, moving closer until she’s at his chest. Her face is too contentedly happy and Junhui doesn’t know if he’s more embarrassed at this or the fact that he really can’t tell Wonwoo about this now. 

Minghao notices him watching and smiles. “My building is near your restaurant. That’s why I usually come in there for like, lunch or dinner sometimes,” he offers, “In case you were wondering.” Junhui may have a little at one point but he wasn’t going to _say anything._ Minghao tries to pull his hand away but Byuli swats at him with her paw, tail swishing behind her. “She’s really sweet,” he says in a low cooing tone, eyes somehow sparkling.

Junhui frowns. “She’s not usually like this, really. She’s not really this affectionate,” he tries as a preemptive apology, glaring at her for her continued embarrassment. “She seems to really like you.”

Minghao beams back at her. “Aw, I like you too, sweetie.”

There’s an odd lump in Junhui’s throat that he makes himself swallow. In the back of his mind, Junhui wonders if Minghao does have an arrangement with a model or two from his work, if it was similar to theirs. He supposes that even if Minghao did, Junhui still shouldn’t really complain. 

It’s none of his business, really. He likes their arrangement and their sexual preferences happened to suit each other. He tells himself it’s fine like this.

“Aw, as much as I like hanging out with you, I gotta go,” Minghao coos. It takes Junhui a split second to realize he’s not talking to him. 

Byuli is watching Minghao carefully, following his wagging finger with her eyes and even pawing at it with a small mewl. 

“Yeah, I gotta go home,” Minghao continues, giggling. He wanders away from the table, drifting towards the sink to wash his hands. As Minghao dries his hands on a spare towel hanging off the oven handle, he smiles. “So I’ll see you next time?”

Ignoring Byuli’s meows, Junhui lightly taps her head. “Yeah, I’ll see you.”

+++

“He was here again, huh?” Wonwoo dryly asks, watching Byuli barely regard him before she trudges off towards her tree. 

“Uh-huh. Yesterday,” Junhui replies, pulling the containers out from the plastic takeout bag on the kitchen counter. He doesn’t have to ask this time to know he’s talking about Minghao. “You should probably stop being surprised soon. It’s already been a while, why are you only complaining now?”

“I just don’t really get it.” Wonwoo sighs, heading to the fridge for some drink bottles.

Junhui remains silent, continuing his task. He’s learned better than to interrupt Wonwoo with guesses by now; that’s usually how he falls in Wonwoo’s traps of getting him to reveal more than he wants to. “Hm?” 

“Well, one, I didn’t think he’d last this long. And two, what does he do to make her like him and ignore me?” Wonwoo asks in a small pout. It almost sounds like he’s whining. “Besides have sex with you, I mean.”

Junhui scoffs, crumpling his plastic bag to shove into his plastic bag of plastic bags under the kitchen sink. “How should I know?” he huffs, choosing to ignore his first point. “All I can tell you is that he’s really nice to her.”

“ _I’m_ nice to her!” Wonwoo counters, setting the drinks on the table before staring after her again.

Junhui shrugs, bringing the containers and the provided plastic cutlery over to the dining table. “Guess the other option is to have sex with me then,” he says in a complete deadpan.

Wonwoo’s shoulders shake in a laugh, helping Junhui set the table. “Please don’t say that.”

Junhui sits down with a sigh. “Good, because I wouldn’t really have done it. Tell Soonyoungie I miss him.”

“I’m sure he knows, you know how he is. He wanted to come over today too,” Wonwoo says, breaking his wooden chopsticks and digging into the beef stir fry bowl. “But I’ll tell him for you anyway, whenever he gets home.” 

Junhui hums. “He’s still busy?”

Wonwoo pokes around his bowl a little. “Yeah, his schedule’s been running late recently for their practice. There’s a huge performance coming up soon so he says he needs to work on it as much as he can.” He shrugs, heavy and not as nonchalant as Junhui knows he’s trying to make himself seem. “Sometimes I end up falling asleep before he gets back. But he loves it so I can’t really get mad.”

Junhui tosses a sliced lotus root in his mouth. After a few seconds, he starts giggling, despite himself. 

“What?”

Junhui brings his hand up to cover his mouth, shaking his head. “Nothing. It’s just you sounded like those old wives lamenting that their husbands haven’t come home yet.”

A firm hand shoves Junhui’s shoulder as Wonwoo sighs, leaning his hand on his chin. “Oh my god, shut up.”

So Junhui does just that, chuckling as he continues shoving vegetables in his mouth. A few moments of quiet slurping and chewing pass between them. One of the things Junhui always appreciates about being with Wonwoo is that neither ever felt pressured to fill the gaps of silence with needless small talk. They were too comfortable for that.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Byuli wandering around, having jumped onto the living room coffee table as she slowly makes her way over to them.

“He’s a fashion designer,” Junhui finds himself saying as he finishes the last of his rice. 

Wonwoo looks up. “Huh?”

Junhui clears his throat. He’s not exactly sure what compelled him to say that, especially after the last thing Wonwoo was talking about. Maybe he was just excited at finally finding out what Minghao does and wanted to share it with someone. For whatever reason. It’s not like Byuli would understand. And if she did, it wouldn’t matter because she was there when Minghao said it. But Junhui supposes he can’t back out now. “Minghao. He’s a fashion designer.”

“And Minghah is…?” Junhui can practically see the calculations flashing through Wonwoo’s eyes, even if the syllables don’t exactly fall out of his mouth the right way. 

“The boy toy,” Junhui answers, knowing that Wonwoo probably guessed anyway. 

“Ah,” is his barely-concerned monosyllabic answer. A few more calculations pass through Wonwoo’s eyes and Junhui doesn’t have to ask to know he probably messed up _something_ here. “Why are you only finding that out now?”

Junhui shrugs. “You know why.” He nods in the direction of the bedroom for emphasis. 

Wonwoo blinks. “Then why are you even finding out at all? That’s not really part of your deal, right? It shouldn’t really matter?” 

“I—” Admittedly, Junhui feels stumped here. Why did he want to find out what Minghao did? Just because of his clothes that day? “I just needed something to talk about while Byuli was keeping him from leaving. I realized I didn’t know and I didn’t want it to be too awkward.”

Wonwoo makes a small choking sound. “Byuli was _stopping him from leaving?_ ” He pauses for a few seconds and clears his throat. “Not the point.”

“You’re making it more of a deal than it is, Wonu.” Junhui pouts, gathering their empty plates to bring to the sink. “All I did was find out what he does for a living. Just because we mostly have sex doesn’t mean he’s not still a person.”

He hears Wonwoo hum a small sound from behind him. “I know he is. I guess I’m just curious.”

If he turned around, Junhui is sure he’d see Wonwoo watching him with concern swelling in his eyes. He tries to wave him off, despite the swell in his chest. “It’s fine, Wonu. We had an agreement. We don’t really… do that sort of stuff.”

“Uh-huh,” Wonwoo replies, tone flat and unconvinced. There are some sounds of plates clinking against each other as Wonwoo brings the remaining dishes to the sink. “Why are you telling me his job then? And his name, all of a sudden?” _after going so long without bringing up his name,_ is what Junhui hears hanging there.

_Because it didn’t matter before._

He doesn’t have an answer. “Maybe I’m telling you to become a fashion designer so Byuli will like you.”

Wonwoo chuckles, slightly dry and humorless. “You think that’s what it is?”

“Better than the alternative,” Junhui replies, shrugging again. He feels Wonwoo come up behind him, hand placed comfortingly on his shoulder. “I don’t know what else to tell you, Byuli will like you eventually, just give her time.”

Wonwoo stays silent, still hovering by Junhui. When his hand squeezes against Junhui’s shoulder, he knows that Wonwoo knows that Junhui’s purposely rebuffing him and Wonwoo’s still worried about something. 

“It’s fine, Wonu,” Junhui mutters, shifting through the next dishes to scrub. “I— I already like someone else, remember? It’s fine.”

As he lets out a dull hum, Wonwoo reaches for the dishes Junhui’s left in the drying rack. “Your boss at the restaurant?” 

Junhui gives a hurried nod as Wonwoo grabs a towel to start drying the dishes off without another word. 

+++

Wonwoo doesn’t get many chances to come by the restaurant. But one of the few times he did, a few weeks before Minghao had slipped Junhui his number, he had asked to speak to Junhui’s boss after his meal. 

Presumably it was to talk about the kimchi fried rice he ordered but Junhui knew Wonwoo was just trying to size up his crush after Junhui had talked about him so much. For whatever reason. Junhui didn’t hear much about their conversation since he still had other tables to tend to, floating around between them until he eventually made his way back to Wonwoo’s table.

“He’s very pretty,” Wonwoo commented nonchalantly, fork cutting through the cheesecake dessert he’d gotten after the boss had cheerfully walked back into the kitchen.

Standing beside Wonwoo’s chair, Junhui slapped his arm, scandalized. “You have Soonyoungie!” he scolded.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, chuckling. “I said he was pretty, not that I want to marry him.”

Junhui felt his jaw drop, gasping a little too quickly as his brain picked out the implications. “Wait… Wonwoo-yah, you—” 

“Junnie, shush,” Wonwoo quickly replied, unable to hide the smirk and letting Junhui excitedly shake him around like a ragdoll. 

Junhui obeyed, circling around to the chair opposite Wonwoo so he could paddle his feet on the ground in excitement and nodded for Wonwoo to continue.

He didn’t. “But he’s the one you like, right? The one you kept trying not to talk about at dinner?” Wonwoo asked instead, putting the forkful of dessert in his mouth and eyeing him carefully. Junhui didn’t know what it was that made Wonwoo conclude that so easily. Maybe it was the flustered way he introduced them or even called him out into the dining area. Maybe Junhui was dreadfully obvious or Wonwoo was piercingly observant. Or maybe Wonwoo just knew him too well. “He seems nice enough, you should ask him out.”

Junhui deflated, feet instantly halting. “You think?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo replied with a nervous but still encouraging smile. “Why not?”

Junhui had to look away, feeling his expression drop. _Because it’s me._

Junhui was never very good with his crushes. He tended to bottle them up and always had trouble working up the nerve to actually confess. He tended to worry about pushing his feelings onto others when there was no chance they would possibly reciprocate, he worried about making them uncomfortable with their foregone rejection, and he worried that his heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Being naturally shy in a foreign country didn’t help. Junhui knew Wonwoo understood a lot of that. He never tried to push too far and let Junhui handle things at his own pace, just encouraged him here and there. He used to say he was the same way with Soonyoung, after all, shy and anticipating the worst. 

But Junhui had long thought that the chances of his boss bemusedly interrupting Junhui’s awkward confession and suddenly confessing that he’s liked Junhui for probably longer than Junhui’s liked him seemed unlikely. It may have worked for Wonwoo and Soonyoung but Junhui’s always thought they were a rare case. A far off fairytale.

It was safer this way, keeping his feelings to himself. Even when he knew the look Wonwoo was giving him said otherwise. It was probably about as pitiful as Junhui felt. “Jun-ah, it might end up like when you liked Joshua—” 

“I can’t,” Junhui finally said, standing up and keeping his gaze down. “I can’t confess to him. Not yet. I— right now, I have to go help Jjeuwi, I think I saw her signalling me from the counter.”

Wonwoo didn’t look like he believed him. “Okay,” he said anyway with a nod, finishing off his cheesecake so he can hand Junhui the clean plate and fork. “See you at home.”

With a nod, Junhui took Wonwoo’s plate back to the basin and continued with his shift. He let Tzuyu deal with the payments while he tried to sort his thoughts out in his head. He made sure to flash Wonwoo a small wave as he left but otherwise just focused on wiping down the table he was just occupying. 

Junhui never specifically told Wonwoo about Joshua, really. Wonwoo just figured it out— but Junhui wouldn’t be surprised if Soonyoung somehow also knew. It’s not like anything really happened with Joshua anyway, he was just this older boy from Junhui’s Korean classes who also happened to be mind-numbingly handsome and kind to him; of course Junhui would get a crush on him. 

He still never confessed to Joshua either. He tried once but backed out and couldn’t go through with it. He knew Wonwoo knew. Junhui also knew that’s why Wonwoo would be trying to encourage him with this crush. He didn’t blame Wonwoo for it, Junhui knew he meant well. It was just hard for him to get past his nerves and gather up the courage to ever confess. There was too much to lose there.

The best way to protect his heart was to not say anything at all. It couldn’t get broken like that. Confessing was too difficult.

But this thing, this casual arrangement he had with Minghao was easy. A welcome distraction that kept him from worrying about his dumb work crushes and inability to deal with them. It was no big deal.

Junhui had nothing to lose.

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone's wondering, yes, Soonyoung will appear later  
> (but Joshua won't)
> 
> [twitter ](https://twitter.com/paishhao) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/paishhao)


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